


After Hours

by MagicRobot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Multiple Partners, Oral Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1445845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicRobot/pseuds/MagicRobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chromedome is pursued by a trio of amourous minibots in Swerve's bar during down time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Hours

The bar was blessedly empty, Swerve having closed the establishment a few hours ago. Even so, Chromedome felt a slight flush of embarrassment creep onto his faceplates. He squirmed in his seat, the minibot on his lap only grinding further into his groin. 

"Relax, buddy," said Swerve, casually watching the affair from behind the bar. Tailgate smirked from his position on a nearby barstool, while Rewind continued his slow gyration on Chromedome. "This bar is as private as any had suite right now."

"I somehow doubt that." Yet, despite his words, Chromedome’s frame relaxed minutely, even going as far as to grip Rewind’s hips in encouragement. Rewind’s camera light blipped excitedly in response.

Giggling, Tailgate leaned over until his servos gripped Chromedome’s knees. He slid to the floor, spreading Chromedome’s legs in order for him to fit snuggly between them. Shuffling closer, he nosed up to Chromedome’s interface panel, right under where Rewind’s hips were circling.

Swerve patted Chromedome’s shoulder. “Lighten up, Domey. You’re in for the time of your life.”

Chromedome’s reply was muffled by a long groan. Tailgate had began circling the outer cover with his glossa, sucking at it intermediately. Before long, Chromedome’s panels retracted, his valve spiraling open and his spike jutting out between him and Rewind.  

A savage grin appeared on Rewind’s face, his servos immediately migrating to the length in front of him, giving it quick jerks. At the same time, Tailgate wormed his glossa in between the quivering calipers, suckling the anterior node. 

Pleasure shot through Chromedome’s neural net, nearly overwhelming him. He doubled over the two minibots, gripping the bar top. His fans kicked on almost immediately, creating a hum of background noise in the otherwise quiet bar. As the two doubled their efforts, Chromedome’s moans became more prevalent and loud.

"That’s the spirit!" crowed Swerve, nearly crawling over the bartop to join in on the fun.


End file.
